


Cumming to America: Steve Rogers' Erotic Legacy

by Skyuni123



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexuality, Chaos Ensues, F/M, Gen, Humor, Internet, M/M, Mixed Media, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Satire, everyone is bi, there is a lot of romance novels using steve's image, this is a bit of a shitpost but i did actual research for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: Steve Rogers' impact on the world's cultural consciousness is significant. His impact on the erotic novels of some of America's finest is also pretty significant too.-In which Scott is a bit of a fangirl, Bucky reads too many novels featuring his best friend, and the Ex-Avengers start a book club.





	Cumming to America: Steve Rogers' Erotic Legacy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1599293) by [eleveninches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleveninches/pseuds/eleveninches), [febricant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/febricant/pseuds/febricant), [hellotailor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellotailor/pseuds/hellotailor), [M_Leigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Leigh/pseuds/M_Leigh), [neenya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neenya/pseuds/neenya), [tigrrmilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigrrmilk/pseuds/tigrrmilk). 



> I made an offhand joke about this in one of my other fics, and now it is a fic. Whoops.
> 
> Y'all don't want to know what erotic parodies didn't make the actual fic.

_**Cumming to America: Steve Rogers’ Erotic Legacy** _

_**By[Emma Maguire](https://twitter.com/em_ma_maguire)  
** _

 

From the dawn of time, people have been writing about sex. Well, perhaps not since the absolute dawn, it’d be a little hard to get a marauding tuatara or amoeba to describe their sexual exploits in explicit detail, but there’s definite a historical precedent. A man, cursed by the god Priapus, makes his mark upon the earth (by fucking, _a lot)_ in an ancient Roman novel called _The Satyricon._ There’s been medieval erotica, Renaissance erotica, and a whole lot more besides.

If you’re me, you first discovered erotica through the tragique nightmare that is _50 Shades of Grey._ Maybe you found a well-thumbed Mills and Boon romance hidden in your aunt’s bookshelf. Perhaps your first foray was on literotica.com. Regardless of the location, there is one universal truth.

There is a _lot_ of erotica out there, for people with wide and varying appetites.

 

The internet is a little bit thin on the ground about published erotica written about historical figures, but I know from my own research that there is a _ton_ of the stuff on ao3.org. (Archive of Our Own, one of the best and most expansive fanfiction databases out there.) From Jesus to Shakespeare, if you wanna read about someone getting down and dirty, it’s probably on there.

 

Which brings me to the topic of this blog post. Captain Steve Rogers, America’s ex-Favourite Son. Not gonna lie, I’ve always been on his side. Punching Nazis, fighting for honesty and safety? All that charity work? Not a billionaire? He’s always been my kinda guy.

He’s also, apparently, the ‘kinda guy’ of a lot of erotica authors. There is, and I cannot stress this enough, _A LOT_ of porn about the dude. He’s been written about since the war, and the amount of published stuff out there has just… expanded… ever since he got back. I have no idea why his estate hasn’t stopped this stuff, but… eh. What’s the deal with copyright on a dude who’s come back to life?

Does it feel a little bit wrong to be reading stuff about a guy who’s gone through so much? A little. However, if you take a look at all the trash films and tv shows that’ve been made about him since his disappearance - think about that Channing Tatum one, what was _that?_ \- I think some of these take a little more of a subtler hand. They’re not all porn. I’ll leave that up to your Amazon search history. Some of them are actually quite _nuanced._

 

Here’s a few of my favourites…

 

\--

 

Scott talks a lot. It’s really one of his worst habits, alongside making grotesque sandwiches that gross even Clint out and occasionally riding ants into battle.

He talks when he’s tired, he talks when he’s hungry, he _especially_ talks when he’s panicked. Which he is. Right now.

 

He’s on an op, somewhere in Russia, with Bucky (whose mind is… better than it was), and Natasha. He doesn’t quite know why he was brought along, but he’s happy to be the comic relief of this little team and watch two professionals do their work. They’re both badasses, and he was really just glad to be included.

 

Until now.

 

Bad Guy of the Week - some middle-aged white dude with giant robotic legs and pincers for arms (Crab Man, he calls himself, but like, in Russian) - is trying to blow up a nuclear power plant. The usual.

Except Scott’s suit is broken, Bucky and Nat are nowhere to be seen, and he’s got blood coursing down the side of his head. Everything’s a little bit spinny, but he doubts that he’s hallucinating Crab Man’s victorious walk towards him.

 

Everything hurts.

 

“I would… _really_ appreciate it if you didn’t kill me.” Scott rolls onto his back and just kinda… lays there, babbling inanely. It would feel nice, but the floor’s concrete and it’s goddamn cold. “Seriously. I’ll do… pretty much anything. Not give out the details of our hideout or anything dumb like that, but you can have… like… uh,” He fiddles in the pocket of his suit and withdraws a ten dollar bill. “Ten bucks? That good enough?”

 

Crab Man keeps on walking, pincers clicking together in a way that is really quite horrifying.

 

“I have a hook-up at Baskin-Robbins. It’s, like, in San Fran though so it’s probably no help to you. I don’t imagine you’d be able to get onto a plane with arms like that.” Scott’s eyesight is beginning to blur a bit, which is really not ideal. He blinks. It doesn’t change. In fact, it might get worse. “Ooh, actually. You can have my entire collection of erotic Captain America novels? I love them, but like, if it’d stop death I don’t mind handing them over...”

 

That actually stops Crab Man in his tracks. “Какие?” He says.

 

Scott is fortunately saved from answering a question he can’t answer in a language he doesn’t understand by Bucky flying into the room and punching Crab Man square in the face.

 

He thinks, while almost definitely passing out, that that is the last of that.

It isn’t.

-

 

“Did you say something about erotic novels?” Bucky growls, intercepting Scott on the way to the bathroom two days later, and rather imposingly blocking any escape routes. “About Steve?”

 

Well.

Good.

Scott’s always wanted to be killed by an ex-Soviet assassin.

 

******

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/47740973812/in/dateposted-public/)

**_One Long Summer Day_ \- Elizabeth Andrews (1949) **

 

_She watched Captain Rogers’ strong arms flex as he dug and turned over the hard earth below. All she wanted was to spy beneath his linen shirt at his chest, the poignant reminder that he was man and she was woman._

 

_He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over at her, blue eyes gazing into her soul. His presence was such a small gesture, so kind and thoughtful, but unashamedly his._

_“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked, kindly, oh so kindly._

 

_“Y-yes!” She giggled, and brushed a curl away from her ear._

 

_“Where would you like me to put these potatoes?” He questioned, crouching to the ground and…_

 

******

 

“Do you like this?” Bucky asks, looking far too judgmental for the situation at hand. He’s almost gleeful about it, actually.  “Does it… turn you on?”

 

“I’ve never really been a gardener.” Scott replies, refusing to be ashamed of the whole thing.

 

“Funnily enough, neither has Steve.”

 

(Bucky neglects to mention the fact that Steve’s always been blonde, but it's basically a given.)

 

******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/46876829445/in/dateposted-public/)

_**The Captain's Wife -** _ **Margaret Stevens (1965)**

 

 

_He didn’t want her to see him as a Captain, just a man. Maybe even, a man that she could love. Though their time apart had been tragic, he knew that he could welcome her into his heart, and she’d be the better for it. The moment he’d set eyes on her again, he’d known. He loved her, with every fabric of his being._

_“Come along.” He said, and guided her towards the dinner table, one hand at the small of her back. “Let me serve you.”_

 

_She looked up at him, wide-eyed and so thankful as he took up the carving knife and made a grand gesture of carving the chicken in front of her. Her deep brown eyes, so warm and fulfilling, made him relive his past, right there in his dining room._

_He held his breath. The memory of how they’d laid together, how she’d fallen by his side underneath the moonlight and he’d kissed those luscious lips, had popped into his head and sent his blood surging like a wild river._

_Good heavens, he had it bad. Parts of his body, so dormant during the battle, burst into life, hot and throbbing. He…_

 

**_**_ **

 

“Well, that’s just wrong.” Bucky says, and frowns down at the book. “Steve could never carve a chicken to save himself. I always had to do it when we managed to afford one.”

****

“ _That’s_ the strange part?” Clint asks, sitting cross-legged on Scott’s dining table.

****

Scott jumps and hits his elbow on the side of the tv, because he’s pretty sure Clint wasn’t there a minute ago, despite being in his line of sight. Bucky does not, but he’s superhuman so he’s got an unfair advantage.

****

“Steve gets so worked up over a girl that he pops a boner while serving dinner?” Clint’s crunching on something. Scott doesn’t necessarily want to know what it is. “He’d _never._ Too impolite. What are you reading?”

 

******

 

**Extract from ‘Cumming to America’ by Emma Maguire**

This one is a… unique one, I’ll be honest. There is a lot of trash on this list, but _Fall From Grace_ has a special place in my heart. It’s actually a decent book, but it’s even more than that. When you take a look at all the resources out there about Steve Rogers, it’s one of the ones that has been banned the most. Too queer for the times, and too queer for some people now, apparently. Written by a gay author in the late sixties, it didn’t even get publication until parts of it had been heavily stripped from the work, though we were all fortunate that the author re-published the book a few years later, unredacted.

_Fall From Grace_ has a soul, and feels almost too genuine for me to place it in the same leagues as a bunch of trash heap books like the rest of this list.

 

******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/32849760417/in/dateposted-public/)

_**Fall From Grace -** _ **Elias Smith (1972)**

 

_“Does it ever feel as though you aren’t quite yourself?” Bucky asked. He leaned against the canvas of the tent, watched the snow gently fall down outside. He didn’t feel cold anymore._

_In that respect, neither did I._

_“...I don’t know what you mean.” I said, though I was just being evasive. It was too hard a question to answer. Legitimacy and honesty were not quite one and the same anymore._

_“Do you ever miss just being Steve Rogers from Brooklyn? That skinny punk kid always ready for a scrap?” He traced his fingers along the snow, brushed some up along his sleeve. “I never felt this good before. Bet you didn’t either. But it doesn’t quite feel real sometimes, does it?”_

_“It’d feel less real if you weren’t here.” I said, quietly, and caught him by the hand. It wasn’t anything we’d ever said to one another, but it was a truth, one that I felt down to my bones. I didn’t know what it would be like without him._

******

 

“Shit, that’s pretty sad.” Clint says, and stretches like a cat. He starts walking backwards towards the door. “Gotta op. Don’t wait up, kiddos.”

 

Bucky signs something in his direction without even looking at him. It doesn’t seem polite.

 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you too, Barnes.” Clint disappears out the door.

 

“...You… uh… doing okay,... bud?” Scott asks, debating whether to rest a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He decides against it, because he likes being alive.

 

“You try and comfort me, I will break all of your fingers.” Bucky says. His eyes are red-rimmed. He swallows heavily. “I need a break.”

 

“Sure thing.” It’s not like Scott particularly _wants_ to be here.

 

Bucky dives out the window and disappears into the night.

 

Scott, finally alone in his house for the first time in seven hours, decides to order takeout and watch _The Bachelor_.

 

-

 

“Your living room is a tip.” Hope says, the next morning, and moves a stack of takeout cartons off the couch so she can sit down. “Did you eat all this by yourself?”

 

“I have had six rogue superheroes living mostly in my house for five months.” Scott complains, and tosses the stack of erotic paperbacks off one of his chairs. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, that’s a yes then.” Hope reaches down and picks up one of the paperbacks. _The Captain’s Wife_ has an unassuming cover but was actually a fairly decent read. “Scott.”

 

“What?” Scott replies, innocently.

 

“Are you reading porn about one of your teammates?”

 

“No.” It’s not _porn._

 

Hope flips through the pile of books. “Steve is probably not going to be very happy about this.”

 

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” Steve hasn’t been home in _days._ Scott thinks he’s somewhere in Australia, but he’s not really sure.

 

She sighs. “I don’t really want to contribute to your… odyssey of self-exploration, but you’re missing one of the best ones. Throw me your phone.”

 

(It turns out that being a teenage girl in the 1990s had some perks.)

 

******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/46877045775/in/dateposted-public/)

_**A Lover Out of Time -** _ **Kelly Armsted (1994)**

 

_ “No, Steve!” Peggy gasps, reaching out towards him. “Please. When will I ever see you again?” _

 

_ “I will always be in your heart.” He turns back to her, and wipes a dot of her blood from his lip. “Your blood sings to me. Call me, and I will follow. I love you.” His sharp incisors flash under the light of the moon, and she wants nothing more to feel his mouth on her again. _

 

_ “I love you too, Steve. Think of me, from the darkness of your crypt. I will always be waiting- _

 

******

“-No.” Bucky throws Scott’s phone at the wall. It sails right through and crashes into something on the other side. “No. No. No. Vampires?”

“You are a superhuman.” Hope says, seeming remarkably nonplussed. “It’s not such a leap to make.”

“And… Peggy… wasn’t like that. Not some kind of blushing ingenue. It’s just… disrespectful.” Bucky frowns. 

“You… broke my phone…!” Scott yells, from the other room. “Hope, he broke my phone.”

“You broke his phone.” Hope echoes, placidly. “Are you going to do something about that?”

“No.” Bucky replies, still frowning.

 

******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/33916596568/in/dateposted-public/)

_**The Long Road Home** _ **\- Nicholas Sparks (1994, made into a movie in 2011)**

 

_ “Were you nervous?” She whispered, hands warm beneath mine. “For your first time?” _

 

_ “I think everyone was nervous. I was nervous, she was nervous, the cows and sheep in the paddock outside were nervous. But we made do.” I joked, hoping to diffuse some of the tension in the room. It seemed to hang on a knife’s edge, and I wanted her to feel ready. _

 

_ “Be gentle, Steve.” She said, and I rubbed my thumbs over the palms of her hands and told her I would. _

 

_ I held her then, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. She slid her fingers along the hard planes of my chest and I savoured the feeling, electricity sparking from her fingertips. I loved her touch and leaned in to kiss her.  _

 

_ There was a different sort of passion to this kiss, something heady and alive. I felt her tongue against my own, conscious of the way her body was responding, and breathed in sharply as her hands drifted towards the button on my jeans.  _

 

_ “I don’t want you to leave.” She sighed, into my mouth. “Please, stay.”  _

 

_ “I want to.” I gasped, and realised she was naked under her shirt. “I want to stay. I wish I could.” _

 

_ But the Army had called and I would be leaving in the morning- _

  
******

 

“Are they all… like this?” Bucky looks vaguely disgusted. “Just- They know the Army isn’t- this writer knows that the US Military’s done a lot of bad things, right? That glorification is probably not the best idea? I’ve been on ice on and off since the 40s and I still know that.”

Scott looks at Hope. Hope looks back at Scott. 

He’s not sure that he wants to even get into it.

 

“You should watch the movie.” Sam says, from the doorway. He’s drinking a quart of orange juice that Scott bought for himself. “It’s… very patriotic.” 

“Yeah, but the lead actor was a Brit.” Natasha’s lounging on the floor, head propped up on one of Cassie’s  _ Frozen  _ pillows. “There was a lot of backlash, at the time. People were really mad about it. It was  _ the scandal  _ of the mid 2000s.”

 

******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/47793746611/in/dateposted-public/)

_**Rest Here My Brother -** _ **Sgt. Colin Thompson (2004)**

 

_ “Buck!” Steve yells, over the cacophony of the shelling around them. He grasps Bucky by the collar of his BDUs and drags him towards the safety of a parked car. _

 

_ “You’re going to be okay.” He scrabbles with his medical kit, his rifle falling uselessly to his side. They’re not safe here, but Bucky is his first priority. He finds some gauze, presses it to the wound on Bucky’s chest. _

_ It had been an ambush. They hadn’t been ready. They’d not even been in their  _ gear. 

 

_ “Hold onto this.” Steve folds Bucky’s hand over the gauze, under his own. “Hold on tight. I’ll radio back to base for extraction. You’ll be fine.” _

 

_ It’s a lie.  _

_ The bullet wound is too large, too deep, and they’re too far from a medical team. Medical science has come far since the times of historical warfare, but it can only do so much.  _

 

_ “Steve, I-” Bucky reaches towards him, bloodied spittle flooding from cracked lips. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” _

 

_ “How could I, without you to keep me in line?” One single tear drips down his cheek, and he sniffs and wipes it away. “Just hold on, Buck.” _

 

******

 

“That,” Clint says, “Wasn’t erotic.”

“That,” Scott replies, doing his very best to stop tearing up, “Was a prime example of homoeroticism in literature, at the time. It was supposed to be this long-awaited war novel, full of machismo and American pride, but it was just…”

“...really queer.” Nat finishes. She’s graduated from one  _ Frozen  _ pillow to two, and is sipping at a smoothie with a metal straw. Everyone else has fucked off to places unknown. “You take a night class on literature analysis too, Lang?”

“They offered one when I was in jail.”

Bucky slams the book shut and trudges off to the kitchen, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He doesn’t look at anybody as he goes.

“Do you think this is hitting a little close to home for him?” Natasha muses, staring at the doorway to the kitchen with some fascination.

“I’ve never really speculated on it.” Scott replies, though that’s a lie. Most people on the earth have gone through a part of their lives where they’ve thought, “So, were Captain America and Bucky Barnes like,  _ together?”  _ and subsequently got lost in the black hole of the internet because of it. 

“I can. HEAR YOU.” Bucky bellows, and something crashes to the floor in the kitchen.

 

******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/46877397845/in/dateposted-public/)

**_Pounded in the Butt by a Sentient Tool Wielded by a Literal God -_ Dr Chuck Tingle (2014)**

 

_ We stumbl through the door, kissing frantically and make our way to my bedroom. As soon as we get in there he pushes me down on the bed and I watch as he begins to undo his pants. I don’t know what I’m expecting but it certainly isn’t that.  _

 

_ He’s got a trowel where his cock should be, the sharp end pointed towards his crotch. It’s like  _ fused  _ to him, an insane combination of flesh and metal and I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. The handle sticks out towards me, surely eight thick inches. _

 

_ “What?!” I ask, delirious with confusion and somehow, pleasure.  _

 

_ “A gardening accident, Stpehen.” Thour says, which doesn’t answer my question. _

 

_ But I’m not daunted by his size or his tool. I’ve always been one for a challenge, and seconds later I open wide and engulf his massive, wooden rod into my mouth.  _

 

******

 

“What. What. What. What?” Bucky lies back, puts his hands over his eyes.

 

“Is this erotic?” Natasha muses, “Are you turned on?” 

 

“Chuck Tingle is a muse for our times.” Scott says. He has absolutely jerked off to worse. “You should read  _ Pounded in the Butt by Our Own Moral Antagonism _ . That one’s about Steve and Tony. It’s… very spicy.”

 

“What’s going on?” Steve says. He’s standing in the doorway, duffel bag over one shoulder, looking tired and a bit bloody.

 

Well. This might as well happen, Scott thinks. At the very least, he’s pretty sure he can’t be thrown out of his  _ own  _ house. 

  
******

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/97081555@N07/46877442835/in/dateposted-public/)

_**Bound -** _ **E.L James (2015)**

_ Steven Rogers’ office is beautiful. Overlooking Seattle, he’s a man with one hell of a view, and I’m sure he’s paying for it. However, it’s not the view that I’m having trouble keeping my eyes off, it’s  _ him.  _ I’ve never been in the presence of someone who just… dazzles me so much. My inner goddess wants me to preen and giggle, to make him want me in the way that I want him.  _

 

_ “And why would you be interested in a position in my company, Ms Copper?” He asks. His voice is a dream, too.  _

 

_ “I’ve always wanted to work for a man who knows how to get what he wants.” I say, and look up at him through my eyelashes. I’m nervous, because I’ve never done this before, but the thought of him touching me just makes me want to swoon. _

 

_ “Mmmm?” He says, in lieu of answering, and sits down on the edge of his desk in front of me. He’s metre a foot away now, and I have to actively chose to look up into his eyes instead of down along his chest… or down even further still. “What unique attributes could you bring to the role as my PA?” _

 

_ “I’m a very fast learner with many unique talents.”  _

 

_ He leans in, studies my face for a moment. For some inexplicable reason, maybe our proximity in such an isolated space, the atmosphere between us changes, charging with a vibrant, pulsing anticipation. _

 

_ I flush, my heart racing. _

 

_ “Get on your knees.” He says, and it’s not a request. _

******

“No. No more.” Steve closes the book, neatly, because he’s not a sadist. “Do you enjoy reading these?” 

Scott, at this point, has basically checked out of life. Everyone else has left, because apparently they weren’t in the mood to listen to Steve Rogers read out a fairly coersive billionaire fantasy about himself. “I don’t… not enjoy reading them?”

“But, why?” Steve seems genuinely interested, and not completely disgusted by his behaviour, which is nice. “You’re a smart man, Scott. What interests you about things that are this… low-brow?”

“The fact that you’re calling me high-brow means you know nothing about me, Steve. And a lot of these books are  _ good.  _ Romance fiction isn’t the trash heap that a lot of people say it is. There’s a book in that stack,” He points at the stack, which they’ve only really made about a fifth of the way through, “that was written by a queer activist in the sixties, who felt that telling a love story about America’s favourite hero was a way to get his point across. He felt seen and heard by some of the things written about you, so he expanded it into a novel. I mean, I don’t know how many of those things about you and Bucky are  _ true,  _ but I know that book spoke to a lot of people when it came out. I saw parts of it in myself too.”

“Scott, I-”

“Just let me finish. These sorts of books always get mocked or ridiculed because they’re prominently by women, for women, and it’s  _ shit.  _ Some of them aren’t that great, but I like them, and really, judging an entire genre on one book written by a terrible person is a little bit hypocritical of you.” 

“Scott.” Steve says, and holds up a hand. “Relax. I’m not judging you.”

“What?”

“It’s a little strange that you’ve got a collection of romance books mostly about me-”

“‘Mostly about you’ doesn’t quite describe it-”

“But you’re a good man and an even better teammate, so I’m not going to judge what you do in your spare time.” Steve grins, almost beatifically, and claps a hand on Scott’s arm.

Scott nearly swoons, like some damn maiden in one of his romance books. He collects up as much of the stack of books as he can and makes his way towards the door.

Then he stops.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve is thumbing through  _ Fall From Grace _ , a wistful look in his eyes. 

It’s probably a dumb question, but Steve’s being remarkable obliging considering the circumstances, and Scott just has to know. “You and Bucky… was there any truth to the… uh... rumors?”

“You know, I don’t think I’ll tell you.” 

Which is, really, fair enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [ tumblr ](http://eph-em-era.tumblr.com)


End file.
